


Ever your faithful servant

by Hadilsbooks



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, fiction&femslashevent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-27 06:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20402875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadilsbooks/pseuds/Hadilsbooks
Summary: ||Miranda Priestly was known for her stoic expressions. Rarely, if ever, did she show her true emotion, her face radiating only a constant state of elegance and disappointment at the world she was born into.Andrea had never met anyone outside her kingdom before and the fact that it was a lady with graceful gestures and a gaze that could make any young woman fall to her knees before her thrilled Andrea all the more.Miranda's interest in the young lady had started to rise, however, when she found a note beside her rosewater in the guest room."Ever your faithful servant, Andrea."||Her Highness Miranda Priestly had fallen for the queen set in stone.Andrea had never felt so enthralled in the presence of such a powerful woman before.Tensions between the kingdoms have risen since Her Majesty's death. Andrea has to choose between love or power. Between heartache and a fallen kingdom.///A Mirandy fanfic.///





	1. I《To be Human》

Miranda did not run, nor did she walk. She had a way with everything that no words could describe her actions. Her morning walks were glorious. Naturally. Flowers gazed upon her when she passed. Trees rustled in acknowledgement when she sat under their leaves, shielding her from the sun's glare.

Unlike the emperor's lustrous gardens in Rome and Carthage alike, Miranda did not force her will onto the plants that grew around her, rather, she set them free. She let their man-made geometric shapes spread open like a lover's embrace. Gradually creeping up through the seasons until the young leaves and buds gave way to striking reds and soft yellows, their perfume strong enough that it called out to the most exotic of birds. A paradise in the coldest hearts.

One particular morning, during her morning walk, Miranda heard the trumpets of the deceased ring out through the village. Their sounds accompanied by wails and cries, the rings echoed through her mother's gardens and she heard some of the birds above mimicking the sound. She did not think much of it, the bells rang constantly every time sickness started to spread in the city of Laurels.

She continued on with her walk, pausing to take in the smell of the flowers in bloom, and reaching out to the sky in a graceful stretch.

Reaching the main hallway however, Miranda did not expect her mother's favourite servant to approach her. There was none of the usual bustle of servants preparing the morning meal or taking care of her remaining family. Instead the only servant's face was as white as the marble walls of the intricately decorated atrium.  
Her mother's servant had always stuck by her side. Seeing the servant alone now brought a new feeling of confusion, then dread to Miranda's chest. It settled beneath her heart and took hold of her lungs, squeezing all the life out of her suddenly dry lips.

She knew.

"Young mistress, your mother... We rang the bells for her."

⚜

She was dressed by the servants in an elegant black gown, her chestnut hair that usually shone like the sun was in a tight bun, a black net cast above her face like she was a fish, dragged away from her own underwater kingdom.

Turning her cold gaze to the windows of her bedchamber, Miranda felt another warm tear make it's way down her chin as she remembered her mother's sharp words the day before. Sung again and again like a lullaby throughout her life.

"You will not suffer a broken heart while I am here, child. You belong to me. Therefore, your heart is mine."

Her mother had rarely spoken, for when she did every word dug into Miranda's skin like the poisonous roses that lay on her mother's chest in her death. She still had the face of a teacher lecturing a misbehaving child, and though that should have caused Miranda to ache for her mother, all it did was awaken an annoyance in her. Why couldnt the day pass by quicker?

Members of the court had tearfully approached Miranda all morning and afternoon dressed in their elaborate blacks and greys, offering their condolences and words of comfort. Miranda gave the same reply each time.  
Miranda stood by her mother's throne, accepting kisses on her hands, and thanking them for their lies about how great a ruler her mother had been.

"Thank you. Your kind words make this day more bearable."

She blundered through a meaningless speech, written by the family historian, and then spent the rest of the evening sitting in her parlour.

She did not know what to feel. She had felt sadness that now she couldn't borrow her mother's elegantly stitched silk and cotton dresses for her travels outside the city, but she supposed she could just take her mother's seamstress as her own.  
Staring out the window to the blooming roses below her, Miranda tried to figure out how she fit into the kingdom of thorns she was born to, and found that there was no clear answer.

⚜

By late afternoon most of the guests had dwindled to a couple of lingering noblemen, hoping to exchange a glance or even a smile from the grieving soon-to-be queen. Miranda had escaped all but one.

She had managed to get to the stairs before a queen of one of the neighboring kingdoms was announced. Her name was not familiar to Miranda, so she did not expect the sudden feeling of desire when she looked upon this unknown face.

Miranda's heart fluttered. Her pulse rushed.  
The stranger's features were soft, her gentle eyes bore only pity as she addressed Miranda, and they kissed each other's cheek in greeting. She smelled of lavender.

"I am so very sorry for your loss. I know my words don't differ from the hundreds of nobles you have had to entertain today, but just know I am here for you should you need a shoulder." Her voice was a lullaby that Miranda hadn't known she yearned for, she found herself leaning in to bask in the presence of the woman who was dressed in a simple black dress that carried on behind her in dark jewels like the feathers of a peacock. They reflected different colours as she walked, and as she did Miranda couldn't help but follow the gems as they followed behind her, like dutiful servants.

She indeed wore them like a queen.

⚜

Miranda had crept up to her room that night thinking of soft doe eyes and words spoken to her, sweeter than any wild honey.  
She hadn't realized there was a letter sitting on her desk until she read the words From Her Majesty, Queen Andrea, then she tore open the official seal and read through the letter.

It could have meant nothing.

Or it could've meant everything.

"My dearest, Miranda..."

That was all the confirmation she needed.

"I invite you to my kingdom for the annual peace gala. Join me for a fortnight of drink and dance and games.

It will be held a moon's full cycle from now, on April the sixteenth.

Yours forevermore,

Andrea."

Miranda rarely smiled. When she occasionally let her emotion surface, it was truly a sight.  
None had ever glowed as bright as Miranda Priestly and she slept that night thinking of the smell of lavender and soft brown eyes inquiring about her state.

She cradled the note against her chest, reading those words again and again, interpreting their meaning, smiling.

"Yours forevermore, Andrea."


	2. II 《Chariot Race》

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 《We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.》

Miranda was still in her mourning routine as she set on the journey to Andrea's kingdom. She wore her hair down in a simple, yet elegant plait, her dress hugged her slim waist and spread open all around her like the petals of nightshade. Her lady's maid carried her jet black Turkish angora, Tulip, a gift from one of the many important women who attended her court regularly.

She made her way to her carriage and watched as her parade of horses set forward on the journey that lay ahead of them. Miranda's kingdom grew smaller in size until its view was blocked by the thick green foliage that covered the forests around her home, warning all who entered the cold hearts and even cooler marble walls.

⚜

They had spent the better part of the day in the carriage and stopped once so that the princess could stretch her legs. From then on it was only silence until she laid eyes on Andrea's kingdom.

Miranda did not know what to expect. She hadn't felt the need to visit the neighboring kingdoms. They had all forged a truce with her mother after all, and that only meant they would treat her with the same indifference.

All but one kingdom.

Unconquered, Andrea had been dodging the request of an alliance for the better part of six years. She had the power of trade on her side and felt there was no advantage to be gained from a kingdom whose power lay in the dirt, collecting precious metals.

The kingdoms had been lingering on the paths of war until Her Majesty- Miranda's mother- met her fate when an assassin crept into her window.  
Now it wasn't just one kingdom rising to take its place, all the others have taken interest in the sudden vulnerability of Miranda's home.

Before anything could occur between the kingdoms, Miranda had wished for a little time to herself before she was forced into the task of studying the best tactics for keeping the other kingdoms at bay, possibly even forging a powerful bond with one by marrying an heir.

The thought of marriage brought another series of headaches and she sighed as she stared out the carriage at the dusty roads filled with slaves carrying buckets of water to and from different slaughterhouses, and the odd merchant selling fresh game, and jewels claimed to have been collected from Miranda's own kingdom. She scoffed, offended on her mother's behalf.

⚜

By the time Miranda noticed the sudden change of greenery; the lush green of the forest unfurled around her and the sight of rolling hills beyond the horizon took her breath away. She had never wondered what lay in store for her beyond the confinement of her home, but now that the sky stretched before her in an endless dance, she longed for more. Her home suddenly seemed a prison and she briefly hated her mother for keeping this treasure from her.

When she squinted, she could make out the shapes of birds soaring high above them, as if guiding the carriage to their home, into the rolling hills before them. Their small forms captured a sense of fragility and Miranda couldn't help thinking of Andrea. Was she anticipating her arrival? Would she have been thinking of Miranda, just as she was thinking of her now? She pondered while looking out her window, catching a light breeze. She sighed and she didn't know who was more surprised, her or the servant, when her face broke into a smile that seemed to make the greenery of the hills pale in comparison to her beauty.

It was an hour or so before they finally began to spot civilization, the odd small houses beyond the border housing many a family. Children crowded 'round the doors when they heard the _clip-clopping_ of the carriage, its white exterior etched with black marble runes that shone when the sun hit them. The screams of excited children had rung through Miranda's skull. She hadn't a childhood to speak of besides the hours of tutoring and the confinement in her chambers. The palace gardens were the only places where she'd learned what it was like to be alive. She remembered how she would go out before dawn and sat beneath the trees, the flowers, the bushes all alone until she was caked with dirt, and bugs ran through her hair. Her servant would have had many questions but she knew of Miranda's situation, a kind lady with children of her own.

The sudden wave of her usual dark thoughts threatened to consume her once more, like they used to back home, but Miranda shook her head and gazed instantly at a point towards the horizon. She was the first to gasp, watching the horizon rise until the top of the palace could be seen, then, remembering her sudden burst of emotion, recollected herself and sat straight-backed as they finally approached Andrea's kingdom. Her posture remained poised, queenliness suited her.  
  
Yet her eyes gleamed with an emotion she wanted to portray to everyone before her.


	3. III《Eloquence》

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 《They'd arrived in the middle of the night. The Turkish Angora was nowhere to be seen. The moon shone down on their faces, yet hers did not show signs of weariness like the others who followed her commands. Youth was apparent in the shadows that highlighted her cheekbones, her glowing eyes, her excitement at new territory. She was not welcomed by the queen due to the time, but as she entered she felt her presence. She'd looked around. 
> 
> She was guided to a lavish guest room; it's bed was neatly made, and heavily ironed for there wasn't a crease to be seen. An empty desk carved out of pink ivory sat there in all its glory, a chair pushed into it. Noting the light smell of lavender that seemed to drift throughout the palace, she sat on the bed, stretching her hands out onto the silks. 
> 
> That's when she noticed the letter, sitting on the vanity.
> 
> It was addressed to her.》

The letter sat on Miranda's desk.

The rising sun set its light upon the words, giving them new meaning to whoever laid their eyes upon the poems sent from one heart to another. Miranda stretched out her legs and leaned on her elbow, staring at the desk. Its surface shone from the sunlight, causing her to cast her gaze away from the glow.

She did not know what the appropriate course of action was, having just found out the true intent of Andrea's invitation to her home. She now clearly saw the roses by the open window, their soft petals licking the morning dew that generously blanketed the gardens. Clouds parted once again and the Roses shifted, changing colours as if they had suddenly held new meaning.

She found a simple yet elegant maroon dress made of Greek silk waiting for her at the door, and a slave stood by, eyes cast downwards as she waited for orders to bathe and dress the new guest.

⚜

The servant had used sweet lavender and rose oils on her marble-smooth skin, Miranda could swear she had started to smell like Andrea's garden as she slipped into her new dress, the silk hugged her frame perfectly, and her cheeks turned pink at the thought of Andrea paying attention to her slim waist, her pale arms, her attraction to the smell of lavender.

She then followed the servant down elaborate hallways that led to pleasure gardens, separate rooms that housed exotic plants and animals, kitchens where she could smell spices being used like magical remedies. Andrea's home was not unlike her own, if not more whimsical. Her mother's ghost roamed with the servants, her striking blue gaze blurred with time.

_"I wish you would not meet anyone. You don't deserve the heartache, my sweet."_

Denial made Miranda clench her hands to her sides and turn away as she was finally led to a dining room, the table spreading at least a few good metres in length with exotic foods, from sweet jams made from imported fruits to spiced rice all the way from India, Miranda realized Andrea really did entertain. Smiling politely, she joined the girl by the head of the table, sitting on a plush chair offered to her by another nameless servant.

Andrea seemed to resemble the roses from her garden, her dress was made from a material that seemed to blink a shy pink one moment but then boasted of a fox red another. Her hair was tied back with a gold pin that resembled the olive leaves from Miranda's home. Andrea's serious face made way for childlike hope, her eyes bright as she stared at Miranda. "I hope your night was... good."

"Good?" Miranda couldn't help but laugh. It was not rude as much endearing, her gaze landed softly on Andrea. Her eyes, usually cold, now seemed to resemble the calm Mediterranean sea, "it was good, yes. Better than I thought it would be."

Andrea looked as if a question was brewing in her mind, the words too heavy to speak aloud. Her sweet brown eyes betrayed the urgency she felt, and Miranda feigned nonchalance. Instead, picking at the plate of fruit offered to her.

"I was surprised to find a note on my desk last night," Miranda stated, bringing a grape to her lips. She looked up and found that Andrea had turned cherry red, and was very interested at the plate of dry figs that was offered to her.

"Well?"

⚜

Andrea could recall the last time she was left speechless. It was just a few months before when her elder sister, Chere, spoke of the rivalry brewing between their territories, and she'd suggested that she marry her youngest son in a dreamy, offhanded way. Andrea had seen that same twinkle in Chere's eyes before, and she was not so sure she was joking.

To take the thoughts of marrying her nephew away, she had commissioned an artist from France to come and carve her yet another whimsical marble statue in her garden.

The gods and goddesses of her sister's passionate stories lay frozen in their ultimate fates, carved in precious stones that seemed to glow for her every morning. Andrea had always felt power over these helpless legends, as if she could lay her hands on their shoulders and offer them an alternate ending, a new beginning.

Here, she was the queen of those specially commissioned marble statues, and her gaze could warm even the coldest of hearts.

⚜

After their awkward breakfast, where Andrea refused to answer any of her questions, Miranda was sent by another servant to one of the gardens, filled with nude marble statues of Greek goddesses and legends. One particular statue stood out, as it was made in gold, with the same slim shape as Andrea. Her eyes were smiling, as they always seemed to be. She held out her hands as if offering a sacred gift. 

She had failed to notice the albino animals scattered around the grounds when she'd first arrived. They had been afraid to show themselves. Now, a beautiful bird with white feathers dragging behind its smooth back approached her, it's head to the side as if wary of a predator.

  
She had sat on her knees by the albino peacock, its feathers resembling the cold marble that surrounded them when she heard soft footsteps behind her.

Standing back up, Miranda was surprised to see the peacock walk primly past her and over to Andrea, perching on her arm, its feathers suddenly spread behind the woman. She held her breath as she took in the sight of Andrea in all her glory.  
Her raven black hair was left on its own, and it spoke softly with the wind, carrying the lingering smells of hyacinths and lily-of-the-valley.

Her eyes were as cold as the statues that beckoned Miranda into the silent garden. Staring at her, she looked like she conquered the world. The peacock's feathers had formed into a sort of crown behind the woman, and she looked like a statue herself. Miranda reached out to touch her hands, afraid they would be as cold as stone.

"My queen." Miranda heard herself whisper, and at that moment, she knew. When Andrea stared up at her bashfully when she approached, colour blossoming on her cheeks, she knew. When their lips met in a final sigh, she knew.

She had fallen for the queen of stone. She, who's gaze warmed even the coldest of hearts.


End file.
